When she woke up, Emmy wasn't sure where she was, though to soft humming in the background was familiar, but she was warm and sleepy and just on the side of exhaustion that meant she could easily slip back into sleep or stay awake for a bit. Her body wanted her to sleep but her mind wanted to figure out where she was. In the end, her mind won out like it normally did.
Blinking her eyes open, the first thing Emmy saw was the clean white shirt her head was resting on. The white shirt moved and smelled like her Papa and following the shirt up confirmed that it was indeed her Papa she was resting on. Papa was fast asleep on a cramped couch that was three feet from the hospital bed where her Daddy was sleeping, hooked up to a lot of machines that were making the humming noise she was noticed upon waking. She was wrapped up in Uncle Clint's blanket from the quinjet and her arm was wrapped up in a tiny light blue cast that did nothing to stop the steadily growing throbbing that echoed up her arm and into the rest of her body.
"Papa?" whimpered Emmy softly, hoping to wake up the man she was sleeping on because even though she was still afraid of getting in trouble she was already in pain and Daddy and Papa had always been able to fix that before.
"Hm?" said Steve, blinking his eyes open and automatically searching the room for trouble. He knew that Natasha or Clint were standing guard and one glance at his husband told him Tony was still sleeping peacefully, the medications working wonders on healing his lungs. When he looked down, Steve found the reason he had woken up blinking back up at him in the form of bright purple eyes troubled with pain.
"Papa," said Emmy again once she had Steve's attention.
"Hey baby girl," said Steve, sitting up while keeping the girl securely pressed to his chest with one arm around her back. "You okay?"
Emmy shook her head and held out her casted arm with a frown.
"Does your arm hurt, sweetie?" asked Steve.
Emmy nodded.
"I'm so sorry," cooed Steve, kissing the top of Emmy's head. "Let's go find Aunt Natasha, she can get you something to make it better."
Emmy nodded and settled back against Steve, listening to his heartbeat as he walked from the room after checking on Tony. With her free hand, Emmy clutched both the blanket that smelled like Clint and Steve's shirt in the disconcerting habit the Avengers had noticed, as if she were constantly afraid that whatever she held would be snatched away if she let go. They wanted to tell her that it wasn't going to happen, that they were there to stay, but they also knew that the only way she would ever learn to trust them was to let her adjust on her own terms and until then just keep on letting her hold on to whatever she needed to grab.
"Nat," said Steve when he found the assassin down the hall near the coffee machines. "Emmy's arm hurts."
"Okay," said Natasha.
In the absence of Bruce, Natasha was the one the team trusted to take care of their medical needs. She knew the list of trusted doctors, their allergies, and how to handle each problem. In the case of Emmy, she knew where to get the medicines so the young girl wouldn't have to deal with more strange adults.
When Natasha left to get the medicine, Steve reached out to the coffee machine to pour himself of the half rate brew, which turned out to be more difficult one handed than he thought. He had seen Tony do it hundreds of times while the man was working, most of the time not even looking at the cup while he poured, yet it was a skill Steve still struggled with. Eventually, however, he managed and took a long sip from the steaming mug, letting the smell and caffeine enter his system.
Emmy's stomach grumbled at the smell, causing the super soldier to smile down at his dozing bundle.
"How about we get you some food?" suggested Steve, rocking his upper body slightly. "Clint dropped off some of your favorite snacks a while back. I bet you're hungry after the days we've had."
Back in the hospital room, Steve sitting on the couch with Emmy on his lap leaning against him, Steve held an open container of sliced apples which Emmy fed to herself one handed while Steve talked.
"When I finally got Daddy to say yes to a date with me," said Steve softly as his daughter ate. "I picked out this fantastic sea food place. Daddy doesn't like sea food much so he never ate it but I love sea food and figured that if he just tried a something new he would love it too. Well, I was wrong. I can't even remember what I ordered us but two bite in and Daddy was gagging and threw up all over the table and me before his throat started swelling up. I felt so bad! We had to spend the rest of the night in the hospital and I just knew that he was never going to go out on another date with me after I nearly got him killed on our first one. But you know Daddy, he just laughed it off and when I asked if I could make it up to him he agreed. I took him on a hot air balloon ride for our second date and no one nearly died. Since then, that's how we measured our dates, either they were good or someone nearly died."
Emmy smiled up at Steve.
"Daddy. Papa," said Emmy, pointing first at Tony's sleeping form and then up at Steve and then to herself before clumsily making the sign for family, head tilted to the side in question.
"Yes, Daddy and you and me are a family," said Steve with a smile. "And we love you very much."
Emmy thought about that statement for a long time, resting back against Steve, still huddled under Clint's blanket, until she finally came to a conclusion.
"I love you, Papa," whispered Emmy, closing her eyes and falling back asleep so quickly that she missed Steve's radiant smile down at her.
"I love you too, Emmaline Stark-Rogers," whispered Steve, kissing Emmy's curly hair.
*Still rocking the no internet life. Hopefully that will change in the next few days.
also I acquired a kitten. I wanted to name him Moriarty but...he's just such a tricky little bastard that his name is Loki. I love him. Always-Ari